A Drowned Rose
by Rainysummer
Summary: I stared at Effie in absolute horror as she calls my name, and the silence eccos. I was going to die. There was no chance.
1. Chapter 1

"Primrose Everdeen."

There's a loud ringing noise.

"Primrose Everdeen."

I think I'll go death. No, I know I'll go death. I'll go dead. I'll be dead.

"Primrose Everdeen."

No, no, no! I can't let this happen! She wouldn't let this happen, would she? Yes; the shocked, troubled silence tells me she will. No, it's not silent. There's still that ringing.

"Primrose Everdeen."

Now I am being ushered forward. Maybe my weakness will help me. Maybe they'll all ignore me. I shoot a selfish, hurt look at my sister. Maybe it's being ignored that will get me killed. Now I'm positive. I will be killed.

As I walk next to Effie on the stage, a pair of gray eyes meet my own frightened blue eyes, and I am suddenly angry. I am suddenly furious. Nobody could blame Katniss. _I _could never blame Katniss. She hunted for the food, she kept us alive. I am merely a sidekick to my mother. Or rather, I merely _was _a sidekick to my mother. Nobody will miss me. What has my life been for, anyway? Oh, my mad mother... Why won't she look at me either? Is it because I won't win and we can't move into the victors village, or is it something else?

Can't anybody else hear the ringing? It's starting to get on my nerves.

My throat hollows, and I think I will cry. I won't, I won't.

Blonde hair shines in the corner of my eye. The other tribute, I suppose. I can't look at him, though. I can't look anywhere but straight ahead, or I'll cry.

What difference does it make?

After searching, I realize there is none. I will die regardless. I close my eyes, and I'm staring at the clock in the Justice Hall. I myself have never owned one, but we learned to read them in school.

School: All of the years of my life preparing for the future I'll never have.

The ringing is back.

My family doesn't come. Facing me, I decide, was far to much for them. Again, I don't blame them. I can do it. Why can't I do it? I'll die in the hands of strangers. Maybe I've always lived with strangers.

I would have never guessed that this would happen, that my family would let this happen. Katniss said she wouldn't. Was my last real conversation with her a lie?

The ring, I realize, is my ears.


	2. Chapter 2

I jump as I hear my door open. The other tribute stands in front of me in awkward silence. I raise my eyebrows.

"You shouldn't be here." He finally says.

"No one should be here." He nods. He opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it, the opens it again, "You're Katniss's sister."

The name makes chills run up my spine. "Katniss was in my grade." he explains. I feel like I should say something. Come on Prim, think!

"Hide, find water, find food, move around, and don't take any chances!" He looks desperate. He is desperate, but for what? Certainly not me. With staring at him, some part of me finds amusement. I want to laugh. I want to scream. Everything is just so... funny.

I keep face.

"I'm sorry?" I say, disgusted by the calm in my own voice. Blondie gave an exasperated sigh. Blondie? Now where in my head did that come from?

"In. the. Arena. You. Are. Going. To. Win." The temptation was just too strong.

"You're a dreamer, aren't you?" I'm so incredibly hilarious. How come the world is so dull with me in it?

"This isn't a dream." Funny, didn't he get the joke? Of course this isn't a dream. This has to at least classify as a nightmare. Wait, where do you draw the line? Does it even matter. My stomach can barely hold the laugh bubbling up in my stomach anymore.

When I am able to compose my self to say more, he is gone. l I come up to the nearest pillow, slapped in on my face and screamed. Eventually the screams turned into sobs. I sobbed because I was undoubtedly going to have a slow, painful death, I sobbed because my family was grateful to have me off their backs, I sobbed because all I ever really wanted to do was laugh, but whenever I tried I always seamed to cry, I sobbed because life was so confusing, and I was getting so frustrated, I sobbed because I just didn't seem like myself anymore, and I sobbed just to sob. I sobbed because my name is Primrose Everdeen, and Effie had called my name because she read it on that stupid piece of paper, in stupid district 12, in stupid Panem. I cried because life really belonged on a sitcom, but it would end before I ever even got the chance to send my submission to the producers.

Later Effie came into my room and told me it was time for dinner. Her hair wasn't funny, just kind of wrong, and that was pretty hysterical. I slowly dragged my feet behind in front of me, and glared at the window as Effie leaded me down the hall to the kitchen. I was careful to take the seat farthest from Effie, Haymitch, and especially Blondie. I stuffed my mouth with stuff that didn't even look edible, but was on the table. I don't think I've ever seen so much food in my life time, much less all at one time. Effie seams to be the only one uncomfortable with the everlasting silence, so she finally breaks it.

"So, how to you like the food, Primrose?" It's a typical question, the kind that will somehow lead to the weather. What is the point?

I face her with something that looked like chicken halfway though my mouth, and gulp it whole.

"Fine enough. How are you enjoying the train ride?" I say, a little too politely, but she doesn't seem to notice. An anxious mask covers her face.

"We're running late." She says. I'm surprised she knows what running is.

Haymitch signs for somebody to go get him more wine. "Good at anything?" he asks, burping loudly as he finishes.

"Nope." I answer, and without permission, I leave.

I turn around when I hear foot steps behind me. Blondie stands there, wearing no expression.

"That attitude isn't going to get you very far in the games." He says.

I raise an eyebrow. "Haymitch won with that attitude."

"When did you see his games?" he asks.

"At school." I shoot back, deliberately scowling at the window facing away from him.

"Oh yeah," he says, sarcastically, "really got him far." His expression suddenly gets more intense, more serious. "Prim, he's drunk, has no family, and is about the most arrogant person in the world. Do you really wantt to be like him?" I sighed and finally looked at him in the eye.

"I won't live much longer, so I guess it really doesn't matter." I start walking again, and out of the blue he calls after me.

"I loved your sister!" I refuse to turn around or even stop. I wave my hand as a sign of goodbye.

"Me too." Just like that the worst day of my life was over, and the worst week of my life began.


	3. Chapter 3

**Prim is a really ooc. Oh well.**

I awake the next morning to an annoying pounding on my door as well as what sounds like a dying cat... Nope, no, no, no, no ,no! I _will not_, think of Buttercup. I cannot.

"Wake up, Primrose, today is a big, big day!" I pushed a pillow on top of my face as Effie Trinket lets herself in. What's the point of knocking if you don't wait for a response?

"We're about to arrive at the capital; get dressed, get ready, get rosy! Can't be late now, can we?" I slid the pillow down my face.

"Didn't I lock my door?" Effie put on a huge smile, but I could see her annoyed expression in her eyes.

"I took out your lock." I looked up to glare at her.

"Thanks."

Perhaps the pounding was actually a hammer... Or my head. I wouldn't bet on knocking.

Her grin grew impossibly wider. "My pleasure."

The capital was basically a whole bunch of rainbow colored buildings clumped together. Effie clapped her hands together, practically bouncing with excitement. "Isn't it beautiful?" I looked at her in disgust.

"No." From behind me Haymitch snickered, and even Blondie suppressed a smile. That's right. The whole world is just falling at the hands of my humor.

"Better than your district." Effie muttered.

I choke to hold something back as I see where I will be staying before I die. It is structured like home. For a split second I allow myself to imagine that I am home. I am helping my mom with patients, I am praying for this years tributes, I am starving, I am learning about my life's extent to serve the capitol, I am forgetting to live before I die. I am Prim. Then I blink to see the capitol.

No, I am Primrose. How sad.

Because District 12 is the last district, we have the top floor. Haymitch led us to a building, then got right to the point. "What's your strategy going to be? I already talked with Peeta.

" So that's what Blondie's name was. Still frowning, I answered him.

"Babble them with my undeniable charm." Even Effie burst out laughing. I raised an eyebrow. A challenge. Haymitch made an effort to contain himself.

"What are you going to do?" I glared at him, and they all burst out laughing again.

"I'm cute!" I said defensively. "You just don't know me."

Still smiling, Haymitch answered. "I know you enough to know that you're defiantly not "cute".

I gave him a death glare, and next to him a glass exploded.

"What the-.." Effie started, and then looked at us. "That was quite odd."

Even glass can't deny my charm.


	4. Chapter 4

**Next chapter, sorry they're so short; they don't seem that short when I'm writing them. Hmmm, I wonder why that could be.**

The next few hours I obsessively tried blowing up things with my mind. After about 34 failed attempts I officially declared myself insane.

So I stare at a sock, and tell it all of my darkest secrets before Effie comes and forces me to my stylist. Yep, 2 hours of every hair being plucked from my body, and people who are more insane than me rambling on about how pretty I would be if they could just dye my hair pink. Fun ha?

My stylist comes in, and immediately knows what I'm thinking. "You must think we're all so horrible." Still resisting that urge to say something intelligent like '_I know you're all terrible_', I shake my head.

"Not _all_ of you, just… Err… Most of you." He nods and looks at me in the eye.

"Don't lose hope, there's still a chance you can win." I force a smile onto my face.

"Sure thing." Every hint of disbelief swam in my eyes.

He dresses me in this black dress that was supposed to burst into flames. I wonder if that should be against the law because I could die, and the poor capital wouldn't get to watch me die in the hunger games. I wondered if I preferred to die now. I'm every bit as scared as I was in the first place. That scares me.

Cinna then gave an encouraging speech about how I would win which I completely zoned out. He just looked so different from all the other capitol citizens. He had a plain black tee-shirt, and so little gold eyeliner you barley noticed it. There was no sign of any tattoos, unnatural hair color, or unnatural body color. He was about as close to normal person that I've seen in the last few days (with the exception of Blondie and Haymitch).

"Got it?" I zoned back in to reality. "What?" I'm very proud to say that Cinna didn't roll his eyes, or give an exasperated sigh. All he said was that I was good to go, and I should smile at everybody in the capitol. Because that would happen. And it does.

I could barley contain myself from bursting out laughing when I saw the other tributes costumes. The District 4 tributes had a giant fish costume on, District 9 tributes were dressed up like a dead dear with blood squirted all over their necks. That'll get the capitol's attention.

Turns out they made me hold hands with Blondie when our chariot started moving. I almost fell of before they made that lovely suggestion, so I wasn't really too upset. I think I just might be blind after forcing my eyes open while endless blue and white lights flashed in my face.

I nearly jumped out of the chariot when I caught on fire, and then I realized that was supposed to happen and I started hyperventilating. What's worse? Burning to death in front of everybody you'd ever _thought _loved you, or getting slowly ripped apart for entertainment? I don't know. So many questions... Is there anything I _do _know?

At first the capital freaks thought we were going to die, (as did I), but then they started applauding so I guess my heart is still beating. Slowly getting ripped apart for entertainment it is!

I did my best to smile and blow kisses at the audience, but hiding hate really isn't the easiest thing in the world. Especially if the people you hate want to see you dead, and think you can possibly be happy about getting murdered by a bunch of other blood thirsty kids. If there's one thing I hate, it's when people think that you think things that you really don't think. If you haven't noticed, though, I've hated a lot of things lately. I never used to hate things before I got reaped, but the old, sweat, innocent Primrose has drowned.


	5. Chapter 5

**5th chapter. Yeah… Sorry they're so short, but I'll try to update often. This one's short too, cause… I don't know what to write, er… It's just short. **

It happened so suddenly. I was on the chariot, and then… What? One second every thing was normal and going well, I heard screaming, and then blackness. An endless stream of questions streams around head waiting to be answered, the only problem is, of course, they won't be answered. They claimed they didn't know, but, let me tell you with years of listening to your sister and mother lie to you for your "own sake", you learn to read faces. It helped how bad at lying these people were. I knew one thing for sure; there was an explosion. Yes, and I, the luckiest person in the world, was the only person who got hurt.

So now, while every other tribute is in the training center, learning about the few things that could give me a few more seconds on this Earth, I sit in my hospital bed with a broken arm, and a broken leg. While they're out saving their lives, yes, you guessed it, I was lying in my room listening to the clock. Of all the possible times in my short, short life it just _had _to be a few days before I get trapped in arena facing ultimate death, but the show has to go on! No reschedules!

You just have to respect the way life works don't ya? The weirdest thing is though; I kind of saw what happened. A bunch of pictures will come to my head and leave in about the same second leaving me begging to know what's wrong with my head. Well, you know, besides the obvious insanity. Capitol medicine will heal me within a day. No replacements will get reaped. My weakness will triple from what it already was, and I can no longer be clever in my skill. Hilarious.

About a half hour later Haymitch comes in and "checks on me", but really he's just coming in to see if I saw where Effie hid his alcohol. Second door to the left.

I stupidly start crying in front of him because he stepped on my leg. Then tried to cover it up joking around saying there was going to be a brutal death if he told anybody. He then made an idiotic comment like, "Oh, yeah your death will be pretty brutal." His words stabbed my back. Although I knew I wasn't going to win, I was still holding on to that hope that someone else believed I could. Haymitch's words erased every smudge of hope I had. I gave him a cold blooded glare, and his wine glass exploded. Haymitch looked at it, astonished. I was expecting for him to say something like 'what happened,' or, 'was that you,', but all he said was, "I'm going to get more wine."

"Drunk." I muttered as he walked out.

Inside I'm freaked out. _Your mental, you're insane for thinking something close to that. _The voice inside my head tells me, but I know being insane isn't the problem, or, at least _that_ problem.


	6. Chapter 6

**Next chapter! Can't wait to put Rue in, but I have to wait! AWWWWWWWWWW! **

Peeta leads me through the zigzag of halls and elevators towards the training room. What I wouldn't give for something other than and underground training center. The underground makes me want to barf, curl up in a ball, and rock back and forth. My father died here. Of course, the capitol would have far more safety precaution measures. Bet they never gave the slightest thought about in forcing some in the districts. They thought of us as dolls, like the dolls I would have had if I was born in the capital. They use us when they want to, but then we get old and they through us away, kill us, do what ever inhumane thing they consider "necessary".

As we go farther and farther down, the air begins to grow thick, and a strong stench fills my air. "What's that smell?" I ask Peeta, breathing through my shirt. He snorts, which is so unlike him, and answers me. "The capital." He says, and steps out of the elevator, revealing the training center.

The training center is like a child's Christmas, if you're a blood thirsty murderer that is. Most of the tributes were already swinging axes cutting of dummies throats. I swallowed, knowing that would probably be me. The 'axe in throat' part, I mean, not the dummy part.

I nudged Peeta. "Maybe we took the wrong elevator?" I asked hopefully. He had to bend down to whisper something back, which really annoys me.

"You wish."

I let my head shift over to all the stations. Killing, or surviving? I figured it's not very likely I'll be killing anybody, so I decided to stick with something that wouldn't make me a "dummy". I walked up to the poison plant section. As hard as I try to listen to what they're telling me, the information slips past my mind. I walk absentmindedly to the archery section.

There was a girl with brown hair and a face that sort of reminded me of katness's. She turned around, put on a smug smile that said 'I know something that you don't' and shot an arrow still looking at me. It was a bulls eye. I shivered, now seeing what her message meant.

A chill ran down my back, and suddenly I was more furious than I've ever been before. She was a bloodthirsty career that had _volunteered_. I realize I am next in line, and the tributes behind me are not pleased with my daze. I hear snickers. So my strategy has worked. Act cute and innocent. I realize it isn't a strategy. I could never kill anybody, or maybe I could. Maybe I was a terrible, terrible murderer. Without really paying much attention I shot a arrow and it hit a bulls eye.

Wow. I hadn't shot since dad was alive. I hadn't shot since he'd taught me to hunt. I felt eyes on me, so I moved away. Maybe I am Katniss. Maybe I just dreamed I was Prim. I so desperatly wish this to be true.

At the back of the line stood another girl, about my age. She all her features were dark, intense, but at the same time soft. She looked muscular, and knowledgeable. She looked like she had a chance. What I wouldn't give to be her, what I wouldn't give to be Katniss. What I wouldn't give to be headed to certain death. What do I have to give?

"Prim," somebody's voice interrupts my thoughts. Even though the voice sounded gentle, I spin around, startled. The voice belonged to a girl about 15 or 14. She had strict, yet worn down green eyes and her red hair seemed to have a knot every two inches; _some stylist_. She looked so worn out I almost felt sorry for her, _almost_. She also had this feel to her. I knew it very well.

_Red head is going manipulate me! _My mind screamed that line over and over, but I was having a hard time believing it. She called me Prim. Prim. Prim. Prim!

I shook that happy thought out of my head. I was to insane already, no need to think I can blow things up with my mind, _and_ I'm brainwashed by a teenaged girl who may or may not be planning of killing me.

When I didn't say anything she continued.

"You're okay?" I blinked. Why wouldn't I be? Oh, right. I might be a little bit disturbed by these tiny facts. My mom and sister didn't care enough about me to say goodbye before I die, I was going to die, I'm insane, and I have a crazy kid who loves my sister for a district partner.

My brain finally caught up to Red Head's, and I glanced at my broken arm.

"What happened?" My voice was supposed to come out a million times stronger, but I just sounded week, and helpless. She opens her mouth to say something, and then closes it, as if catching herself. She puts on a sly grin.

"See ya in the arena."

As threatening as that sounds, I'm not the least bit scared by it; more dazed. So she knew what happened, or was she just tricking me into thinking that?

Then I saw myself in a mirror, and realized how stupid I looked. My eyes were lost, my mouth was hanging open, and I was hunched over like an old lady. Blondie came up next to me.

"Make any allies?"

"I wish."

Boom.

Most of the kids wore panicked expressions on their faces. There were a few confused expressions. Worst of there were scared expressions. It would have comforted me more if there were mischievous expressions, or evil grins. No; there wasn't one 18 year old that was fine. I could never kill these kids. I could never let these kids die. Faces unveiled they were all scared, confused 12 year olds. They were all _me. _The grown ups faces, though… It was almost as if they were… Suspecting? It's like they knew it was me, or they knew it was going to happen. "Was it me?" I slammed my hand over my mouth as everybody turned around. "You're scared," one of the instructors explained, "it's normal for you to think weird things." I knew he was lying. I knew everybody has been lying to me since we arrived at the capitol. I controlled my mouth, though.


	7. Chapter 7

_Blood. Death. Murder. I run as fast as I can, but I still cannot get away from these kids. They are everywhere. They are hunting me down. I am in the Hunger Games. I flinch as the dead leaves crumple beneath my feat. Song birds sing joyful songs that just seem out of place, here, now. I fall to my knees as a spear pierces my back._

This is the part where I bolt up screaming, and panting, and then my mom comes in to tell me I'm okay, and it was just a horrible, horrible dream. At first I don't believe her, but then I look up at her, she gives me a reassuring smile. I nod, smile, and take in the beautiful sun rays of the morning coming in through the window because I trust her. I'm safe at home. With her, Katniss, Lady, and Buttercup here, nothing will ever touch me. Unfortunately, this scene isn't possible anymore.

I wake up to a horrible throbbing pain in my head, reaching all the way through my shoulders. I slowly attempt to open my eyes, but it doesn't work. I open my mouth to catch my voice, say something, scream, maybe, but nothing comes out. It feels as if my mouth is glued shut, too.

_Who would ever want that? _Great, now I'm talking to myself, add that to my list of insanities. Then my ears come to life. At first it feels like somebody is taking a knife, stabbing my ear repeatedly, and then leaving it to bleed. That pattern goes on for what seams like forever, and then finally my hearing kicks in.

I heard a steady beat that went on and on, almost worse than clocks which until then, I didn't think was possible. I heard metal softly clanging together, as if a spoon and a fork had magically came to life and were giving each other high fives. Great, add delusional to my list of insanities, if I hadn't already put that one in. There is a soft murmur of voices, sort of muffled, restrained.

Suddenly I feel a furious burning sensation on my side. I scream before I realize that I can't. Fire danced across my whole body, and I felt myself slowly loosing a grip on consciousness. Write as I blacked out again, my eyes caught a glimpse of something orange, yellow red and flickering.

Now, if you've ever been forced to your death by evil people who run Panem, you'd probably know it's not exactly "fun", however I highly doubt you have. I'll have you know that after a while, nothing seams to faze you. Take, for example, me waking up perfecty fine and well in my Capitol bed. I go to find Haymitch. I'm sure you might be able to understand why I am in such a "sunny" mood. I let myself into his room where I found him drunk, lying in a sea of bottles of red wine.

"Tell. Me. What. Happened." I demanded through my gritted teeth. He laughed. Because I am so funny, I cannot blame him.

"Sure, sugar. Sure..." He laughed again hysterically. I opened my mouth to yell at him, but nothing came out. He was an absolute mess. He seemed so… abused. Yes, that would be the word, abused. Suddenly it dawns on me how much I like Haymitch. If I win for anybody, I'll win for him.


End file.
